


I May Not

by LibraStar96



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Character study type thing, Not Beta Read, for the sad sons, forgive historical innacuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraStar96/pseuds/LibraStar96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron knew war was dangerous, but sitting with Hamilton in the dim light of the tavern, he realized that there were more dangerous things to face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I May Not

**Author's Note:**

> This is not historically accurate in any way but please forgive for the character study I was attempting. This one shot is dedicated to my friend Mel who is an inspiration to me and one of the best human being I have had the pleasure of knowing. You are never alone because your friends are always behind you.  
> I promise the pool party WILL eventually be published!

Aaron Burr felt at once both in a daze and the most alert he had been in years for the past week as he made his preparation both personal and otherwise in order to join the raging battle for the freedom of this young and angry country in which he resided.

He had been visited by acquaintances both urging him on to battle and begging him to refrain. He had packed the small amount of his property he considered essential to his well-being and bundled them tight. He had made arrangements in the event that he was killed, that he would have a small plot ready to swallow him up. He had come to terms with what he was doing as necessary though it was a struggle to overcome the reluctance he felt at committing to something so brash as a revolution. He was at the moment, as it seemed to always eventually turn out with him these days, sitting in a local tavern surrounded by the noisy Lafayette, Mulligan, and Laurens while he sat next to Hamilton who, for once, was rather quiet.

Aaron still did not know what to make of the ambitious youth other than coming to the conclusion that the boy’s mouth was going to certainly get him shot one day. Really was it so difficult to keep ones opinions to oneself when they hadn’t been asked for? Aaron knew more about Hamilton’s political, educational, and social opinions than he had ever wanted to be privy to and while they were always though provoking, if one could overcome the boldness in which they were presented, it became exhausting and a little anxiety inducing for him to be around Hamilton for too long. He knew he didn’t actively dislike the boy, but didn’t quite consider him a friend, he felt more like a weary professor watching a new student set a pace that would burn him, or a passerby watch a carriage tip due to a spirited horse: reluctant to watch the coming damage but ultimately unable to prevent it.

“Come now Burr is that really all your going to have?” Mulligan sat heavily on the chair next to him and threw the arm that was not attached to hand holding his pint around Aarons shoulders. “You don’t know when the next chance for a good brew might be. Not a lot of chances to drink while you’re warm and merry in the army.” As if to prove his own point he downed the rest of his draft, and sucked in air victoriously as he resurfaced, cheeks rosy and eyes gleaming jolly as anything.

“Ah you know how Burr is.” Laurens called over with a smirk apparently having heard Mulligan (not that is would have been too difficult as the mans voice naturally boomed). “He’ll drink but never enough to do anything incriminating no matter the occasion.” Mulligan gave a sigh that turned into a chuckle and, after giving Burr a sturdy pat on the shoulder, got up and wandered over to another table where a drinking contest seemed to be underway.

In the dim light of the bar most everyone’s facial expressions were shadowed, lending that strange air of familiarity and anonymity that could only be found in a tavern in the middle of the night, but even so, Aaron still caught Laurens eyes as they darted nervously to Hamilton and himself before turning and acting as though he had not done so. Shifting his gaze slightly Aaron could see that Hamilton was still seated next to him, quietly but intently nursing his drink, and had yet to say a single word. Right.

“Number?” Aaron asked without turning.

“Three”, the response quick and nonchalant, and far to short for what could be considered normal from the young man. Why had _he_ been charged by a single glance from Laurens to be the one to figure out what seemed to be bothering Hamilton he knew the man the least and was not inclined to spend the night having a heart to heart, but nothing ever seemed to go according to his plans when Hamilton was involved.

“Pretty light for you.” Burr continued on regardless of his own thoughts. He wondered what that said about him.

Hamilton smiled small, something mysterious winding its way across his lips. “I’ve no desire to lose my wits completely. I haven’t found the appeal of such an indulgence yet.” He furrowed his brow as he observed the room as a whole, a genuine expression of perplexity settling on his expressive face.

The response was longer but still not long enough for him to feel he could finally be done with this.

“Perhaps they drink to dull the fear that they may not return here again.” Aaron certainly felt the underlying nerves despite his usual levelheadedness.

A small laugh caused Aaron to properly turn to face his drinking companion. He was looking into his glass a bemused yet somehow jaded expression forming in the tilt of his mouth and the narrowing of his eyes. “I doubt I will live to see the glory we may find in battle.” He raised his head to stare directly into Aaron’s eyes, the vividness of the color hold Aaron hostage to them. “I will gladly fight knowing I most likely will breath my last very soon.”

His mind scrambled for an answer but he found his usual well of responses quite lacking at the moment. How was one to respond to such a blatant acknowledgment of mortality? Seems he was getting that heart to heart whether he wanted it or not.

“You have the chance to be great, you have a education, why go do this if you are so certain it will be your end?” He had the world set out before him did he not? Someone as determined, as Alexander Hamilton would leave a mark on the world that much Burr was certain of so why?

“You’re an orphan Burr.” Hamilton dropped his eyes back to his drink. “You have no living family but you have their name to make your way with. I don’t have even that.” He lifted his gaze and settled it on a man downing his pint as though it were the very air he breathed, back bent and alcohol dribbling down his chin. “This is how I will rise above that fate has seen fit to settle me with, either I die or emerge victorious and with honor. The only way to do that” he shot Burr with a wry side glance “ is to be in the action, that is to say, where the danger is.” He took a sip of his drink. “I’ve lived longer than I ever though I would so maybe I will be back one day.” He gave Burr an easy smile, his eyes much less intense now. “No one but God could say, and I did ask for a war.”

Burr wasn’t even going to try to understand that one but as he shifted his own gaze away from Hamilton he felt he finally had a response. “Perhaps none of us will tell the story of this night to our children should we have them.” To this Hamilton gave a small nod. “But if you fall, know you will never be alone.”

It wasn’t exactly comforting, and it wasn’t supposed to be but Alexander blinked, before giving Aaron a shy expression that was equal parts touched and perplexed, and honestly Burr had had enough of this strangeness. He lifted his glass which Alexander mirrored, and they both drank.

 


End file.
